


No Good

by grumblebee_dani



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Canon Universe, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Fluff, Fluff, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-01-26 09:34:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 15,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21371980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grumblebee_dani/pseuds/grumblebee_dani
Summary: Esther Calloway is no good, she would be the first to admit it. She's been kicked out of several countries and considers herself a menace to society, in accordance with any newspaper that has ever published an article about her. No good to the world, no good to the people in it, at least not until she meets Victor. He's not any better than she is, but that's exactly what she finds so intriguing. That, and he's the only one in Gotham with a sense of humor.
Relationships: Victor Zsasz/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

All eyes were on Esther, and she couldn’t say the attention wasn’t thrilling. It didn’t matter that most of the people in the room had guns trained on her, that wasn’t what made the day exciting. The adrenaline keeping her coiled like a spring was the result of whose house she was being held at gunpoint in, not the guns themselves. After three years of searching, Esther had finally found her last living relative, a man in Gotham City named Carmine Falcone.

There wasn’t much information on him other than his reputation, but it was easy enough to find the largest estate in the city and ask someone to confirm. Esther had seen mansions before, but they never seemed like the kind of place that anyone would actually live in. Here, there were chickens roaming the yard and people bustling about with orders to attend to. She hadn’t brought any weapons with her, so the pat-down at the front door went smoothly. She had avoided bumping into anyone or even swearing when she couldn’t find the right room. The only reason she had guns aimed at her was that she forgot to knock before entering Falcone’s private study where he was conducting a business meeting.

“Don Falcone, I hope I’m not interrupting.”

The old man’s eyebrow quirked up in amusement and he waved to his bodyguards to put their weapons down, which they obliged immediately. “Hello madam, what business do you have with me that could not spare a phone call ahead of time?”

Esther let the door quietly shut behind her and crossed the room to take an empty chair across from him. “Not business, I’m afraid. This is much more personal.” His pale eyes flashed, and she saw a few of the bodyguards tense. “Do you remember a woman named Dina Calloway? She made you the godfather of her unborn daughter after you saved her life.”

Falcone sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers as he paused to think. “Yes...I remember now. She was leaving Gotham to find somewhere safer to raise her daughter.”

Esther waited for him to speak again, but he was in no rush.

“May I assume that you are Dina’s child?”

“Yes.”

“And what did she name you?"

“I have no idea. She died before she could make any name official.” The man’s composure never wavered. “I never got to meet her. I didn’t even know her name until I aged out of the orphanage I was placed in and did some research on my own. But to answer your question, the caretakers there called me Esther.”

“I suppose you found me too.”

“Yes.” She couldn’t help but study his features. The way he spoke to her was too even, too respectable. There had to be some chink in his armor.

“And I am your only relative?”

“Yes.” Another pause filled the air. The coil had not loosened a bit, and Esther knew she would need some way to let off steam after this conversation was over.

“It is interesting that I was not contacted after your mother died. Perhaps there was no obvious record of my connection to you.” Falcone gestured to one of the armed men behind him, and was handed a drink. “Are you here for closure, or something more, my dear?”

Honestly, she hadn’t thought that far ahead. She had found a lead and followed it, hoping things would work out in her favor. “I don’t know anything about Gotham. I would appreciate if you would put in a good word for me with an employer or two so that I can start to make a name for myself here.”

He smiled and swirled his drink, watching the ice fall over itself within the liquor. “And what kind of employer do you prefer?”

“You might have a classier name for it, but I’m an assassin.” Esther gave him a wry grin and winked at one of the bodyguards. Not even a twitch in response. It was like this place stifled fun.

Falcone cleared his throat and leaned toward her. "Hmm...I'm sure I can find a use for you in my ranks. Don't worry about finding an employer to impress, Miss Calloway. You can make yourself at home right here."

She studied his expression with a careful eye, but there was no trace of disingenuity. A flick of her attention to his hand, the way he tapped his fingers to some unknown beat, knocked a few things off the list. Falcone was showing no signs of lying, but any mafioso worth his salt would learn how to avoid the tells. She matched the simple rhythm with her left hand and inspected the nails on her right in a well versed illusion of nonchalance.

"As an employee or family?" Her voice was steady, her tone light and casual, but his answer would determine more than the conversation.

"You are my goddaughter, Esther, and you will be treated as my own blood. If not for you or me, then for your mother, may she rest in peace." He took a sip of his drink without taking his eyes off of her. "All that is mine is yours, though I will grant you payment based on the work you do for me. Are these terms to your liking?"

Esther smiled and stretched out her hand, giving his a firm shake. "I'll take a room upstairs until I can find a place that suits me. Thank you for your kindness, sir."

"Please, call me Carmine."


	2. Chapter 2

The dynamic Esther had created within the walls of Falcone's mansion was unfamiliar to her, but not entirely uncomfortable. She was respected, however warily. Other than her godfather, everyone in the house gave her a wide berth to avoid creating a feud with the mysterious new hire. Don Falcone kept many secrets, most of them dangerous. No one wanted to accidentally overstep a boundary and lose his favor. Flotsam and jetsam were not the only things polluting the water under the docks.

Esther had chosen an empty guest room on the top floor to set up in. She packed light and her belongings hardly cluttered the spacious room. To her chagrin, there were no balconies connected to any of the bedrooms, but what she did have were large windows with easy access to the roof. It would have to do.

After the most satisfying nap she had ever taken, Esther woke up to the nest of blankets and pillows she had created with a sigh. Surely, Falcone would expect her to come down for dinner, but she was just so comfortable. Just as she was beginning to drift off again, there was a sharp knock on the door and a face peeked in with fingers splayed wide apart over the eyes.

"You decent?" Seeing she was, the rest of the man entered the room. "Falcone sent me to escort you to the dining room."

Esther did not trust easily, but she had to admit he was cute. Dressed in all black, the man was tall and lithe with a grin stretching across his face. "I'll be right down, just let me put my pants back on." She pointed to where her jeans lay crumpled on the rug.

He shrugged and left the room as she listened for footsteps that never sounded.

"No peeking!" She shouted through the closed door, earning a laugh from the hall.

"I could have found my own way, you know."

The tall man smirked. "Sure, but I'm not one to say no to the boss man."

They walked side by side through the hall to the grand staircase. "I'm Esther, by the way."

"I know."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Can you tell me yours, or is that against the rules?"

He smiled and gestured to an open door. "Not that I know of. Name's Victor, and here we are."

The room was bigger than any other she'd seen. Windows with curtains as long as king-sized bed sheets formed the back wall. A long table took up the middle of the space with enough chairs to host the entirety of her old apartment building. Victor pulled out a chair on one side of Falcone for Esther to sit, then took a seat on his other side. There was an undercurrent of idle chatter that abruptly ceased when the two of them sat down, signalling the head of the table to address the rest.

"I'm sure many of you have already heard tell of a new member of the family. As you can see, these rumors are true." Falcone turned toward Esther and gave her a warm smile. "This is my goddaughter, Esther Calloway. She will be living and working here among us, and I expect you all to treat her with the same dignity and respect that you would give to someone of my own blood." There was a pause where he looked to each face in the small crowd. "Let us eat."

There was a moment of relative silence where all that could be heard was the low din of a meal. Esther couldn’t help but feel out of place among such luxurious strangers, but she ate what little she could stomach. Feeling a light kick to her shoe, she glanced across the table at Victor, who tilted his head. She let a tiny smile flicker across her lips and turned away, hoping he wouldn’t ask how she was feeling. To be honest, she didn’t know, but that was her business.

The undercurrent of talk resurfaced; the ebb and flow of conversation allowing Esther to listen in on what kind of small talk the elites of Gotham liked to engage in. It wasn’t too interesting, but she did notice that it all seemed to come back to the local police department. Apparently there was a new recruit who was causing trouble for the more underground businesses of the city. Before she could catch a name, Victor kicked her again, earning him a glare.

He winked back at her and mouthed, “You okay?”

She didn’t know why he cared, but there was no way she was going to spill her guts to a stranger. Rolling her eyes, she mouthed back, “Yes.”

He shrugged and kept eating, preferring to people watch as she did. Victor was certainly the most interesting person at the table, but that wasn’t saying much. Esther had met any number of high-class criminals, and they were all the same: vapid, self-centered, and much less dangerous than they presumed. Even Falcone was a background character at the table. He was powerful, sure, but all of his work was behind the scenes. The speech at the beginning of the meal was a formality, he only spoke when the situation called for it. He was dangerous because of networking and wealth, which put him just above the others in Esther’s opinion. The only real difference was that he had proven to be worthy of her respect. The jury was still out on Victor, but she was eager to see what he was like when he wasn’t playing footsy under the table.

Despite not speaking much to anyone, Esther managed to have a decent time at dinner. Just as she was heading up the stairs to her room, she was joined by none other than Victor himself.

“What’s got you moping into your salad, sweetness?”

She nudged him playfully in the arm with her elbow. “I wasn’t moping, it’s just my face.”

“Whatever you say, dear. Take this for me, though.” He handed her a business card and smirked at her sour expression. “I just want to make sure daddy’s little princess isn’t crying herself to sleep because nobody’s around to hear about what a terrible day she had.”

Esther laughed to herself and tried her best to imitate his voice, “Whatever you say, dear.”

Victor laughed with her and opened the door to her room, forcing her to duck under his arm to get inside. “Goodnight, sweetness.”

“Goodnight, Victor.” She blew him a kiss and shut the door before he could respond.

The night was spent tossing and turning, only sparing her a few hours of fitful sleep. Esther sat up and turned her lamp on in defeat, fingers brushing against the business card on her nightstand. Picking it up, she looked at it closely for the first time: _Victor Zsasz, hitman. Serious inquiries only._ Matte black with stark white writing, it was professional and to the point, two things she happened to pride herself on. It was almost sunrise and Esther knew she wasn’t getting any more sleep. She remembered Victor saying she could call any time, but figured it would be better to send him a text.

“Can’t sleep. Too busy flinging myself onto the bed in tears.” sent 5:23

She set her phone down, not expecting to hear the buzz that sounded only seconds later.

“So sorry, your highness. Did daddy take away your favorite glass slippers?” sent 5:24

Not sure what to say, Esther started her morning stretches while she thought of how to respond.

“Just wanted to tell you about my day at the castle. I haven’t had any suitors ask for my hand all week!” sent 5:30

Another immediate buzz, but she decided not to read too much into it.

“ :( poor baby, tell me all about it” sent 5:30

“Someone’s eager ;)” sent 5:31

If he was going to use emoticons, so was she. _'Wait, what am I, twelve?'_ She thought, grimacing.

“Just nosy, sweetness. Don’t get your hopes up” sent 5:32

Smiling to herself, she finished her stretches and opened the curtains to let in the first rays of sun.

“Have you eaten yet? I want waffles, but everything echoes in this house.” sent 5:40

“There’s a diner I think you’ll like. Be there in ten” sent 5:42


	3. Chapter 3

Victor’s car pulled into the driveway just before six, and Esther was already outside waiting for him.

“Now who’s eager?”

She leaned back against the soft headrest of the passenger seat and stuck her tongue out at him. “Didn’t want you stomping around the place in your big boy boots, waking everybody up.”

He rolled his eyes and started cruising down the road toward the heart of Gotham. As they drove, the buildings got significantly less grand and the number of potholes in the road increased dramatically. “I know what it looks like, but you gotta trust me on this one. You said waffles and all I could think of was Patty’s Diner. Best breakfast in a hundred mile radius, that’s for damn sure.”

Esther met his eyes in the rear view mirror. “Alright, but I’m counting on you. If I don’t like these waffles…” She tried to think of a proper punishment. “Hmm...I won’t let you call me sweetness anymore.”

“You really think you could stop me?”

“I know I could.” She smiled as he raised an eyebrow at her. Turning into a parking lot, he stopped the car and gave her a hand as she got out. “I have plenty of experience getting in and out of cars, Victor.”

“I am aware, Esther.” He closed the door behind her and led her to a table in the back of the restaurant where they could have their backs against the wall. With a view of the whole room, she soaked in the small-town feel of the place with a lazy contentment.

“I can see why you like this place. It’s...homey.”

Before he could say anything, a waitress came over with a notepad. “What’ll it be, honey?” She didn’t bother asking Victor, just saw him nod and scribbled down his order.

“As many waffles as I can get, please.” Not eating too much at dinner the night before had finally caught up to her.

The waitress smiled and tucked her pen behind her ear. “Coming right up.”

The silence that followed was not the same as the night before. It was necessary in a way; it felt right.

The bubble burst when the waitress came back with their food, saying, “You two enjoy.” She set the plates down and turned to Victor. "Been awhile since you’ve stopped by, Vic. Don’t be a stranger, ya hear?”

“Yes, ma’am, Carlie. Wouldn’t want to worry you.”

Carlie sighed and smoothed her apron. “Oh, you know me. I’m always gonna be checking the papers for ya.” She walked back to the kitchen with a wink as Esther wolfed down her first waffle.

“She seems nice. I guess you come in here pretty often, huh?”

He split his egg with his fork, letting the yolk run. “Yeah, Carlie and the others run one of the only genuine diners in Gotham. Most of them are just fronts, same as the bars and clubs.”

She reached for the syrup and poured it as she spoke, “How did you find it?”

Her quiet chewing was the only other sound as Victor weaved a story of his connection to Patty’s Diner, pulling and crossing threads of danger and comfort food. He told her of how he took cover in their kitchen with a bullet in his leg as the GCPD surrounded the place, how he pulled the bullet out and let the cook stitch him up with his training from the army. He told her of the time he got rid of a politician just because he wanted to gentrify the area, which would have forced Patty’s out of business. He told her every story he could think of about the diner and finished with the reason why he wanted to take Esther to eat there.

“This place is good, these people care about Gotham more than anybody with any say in how it’s run. And they have really good food.” He stuffed a bite of toast in his mouth for emphasis, making Esther smile.

“I guess we’ll have to come back some time.”

He nodded and set down his fork, along with a wad of cash. “Ready to go?”

The ride back had that same comfortable silence, and Esther could only try so hard to keep her eyes open as the hum of the engine lulled her into a dreamy state. It wasn’t a long drive, but it was just long enough to allow her mind to slip into a deep enough sleep that Victor smiled to himself and ruffled her hair before carrying her inside.

When she woke up, the first thing Esther noticed was the faint blinking light emanating from her phone.

“Didn’t think I was that boring. Promise you won’t fall asleep on me next time?” sent 7:32

She could feel her cheeks flaring red. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep…

“Thanks for tucking me in, dear. You really know how to treat a lady ;)” sent 7:33

“Sweetness, if I know anything, it’s treating ladies and shooting guns.” sent 7:33

Esther smiled at the screen illuminating her features and swung her legs over the side of the bed, ready to finally start the day.


	4. Chapter 4

She skipped family breakfast in favor of polishing the knives she typically kept hidden in various parts of her clothing. Long, short, sharper than a needle or blunt as a chisel. She hummed to herself as she worked, noticing but not bothering to turn around when she heard footsteps approaching her room.

“You missed a fine meal.”

“I ate earlier with Victor.”

Falcone crossed the room to sit on the edge of her bed. “That’s good. You both could use some time away from the business.” He sighed and opened the manila folder he had brought with him. “Despite my personal sentiments, here is the information you will need for your first assignment.”

Esther took it from him and pushed her knives to the side so that she could spread the papers on her desk.

“I won’t always be so thorough, but you are still new to the city. I thought some background information would help.”

“Thank you, Carmine. I appreciate it.” She gave his hand a gentle squeeze and smiled. It was almost strange to have someone be so thoughtful.

It seemed to be a standard hit on the leader of a gang that was getting a little too confident. The last straw was a robbery at a bank that Falcone owned, though not in writing. All she had to do was make an example of the leader, and the rest would scatter like rats back to the sewers they came from. Easy peasy.

The photos provided by her godfather led Esther to the basement of a seemingly abandoned apartment building in one of the rougher parts of town. Unable to get a song out of her head, she hummed along as she jammed a knife under a window sash and heaved up the heavy glass. Slipping inside without a sound, she stood still for a moment and listened. There were gruff voices, though faint, wafting up from underneath her, just as she expected. Finding the staircase, she grabbed a chair and spun it around to keep the door closed. With no other exits to block, Esther moved to where the voices were faintest and began prying up the corroded floorboards until there was just enough space for her to slip through.

“Hello, boys.” She called out with a wry smile. The man from the file stood up first, knocking the cards on the table into disarray.

“Who the hell are you?” His men took their places, hefting guns of varying shapes and sizes.

Unfazed and unbothered, Esther sidestepped toward the man closest to her and grabbed his wrist in the span of a second, knocking his gun to the floor. With her hand still closed around the first man’s wrist, she kicked the second to the floor and rolled to the ground, coming up on the other side of the room with the dropped gun in her hand.

“Play nice, boys. Nobody likes a bully.” She shot each man between the eyes and turned to face the only one left standing. The leader of the gang was frozen in place with shock, a puddle around his shoes. Rolling her eyes, Esther shot him in the foot and tucked the gun into the inner pocket of her jacket. Annoyed with his cries of pain, she grabbed a wad of napkins from the table and stuffed them in his mouth.

Falcone wanted the man alive, so she tied him up and called to confirm her work was done. In only a few minutes, his men were there to take care of things and Esther was free for the rest of the day.

“Just got off work, what’s a girl gotta do to find some fun in this city?” sent 10:01

Slipping her phone back into her pocket, she set out to walk around without a destination.

“Meet me at main st. and I’ll show you” sent 10:10

Main Street was one of the busier places in Gotham, though it was easy to tell that it hadn’t really been the main part of the city in quite some time. There were as many windows boarded up as full of colorful wares, and the cars driving through were much lower fashion than the ones creating traffic in the nicer areas. The only exception was Victor’s car as it pulled up beside her. Glossy black with shining rims, it was a work of art next to the drab backdrop of Main Street.

Victor rolled down the passenger side window and winked at her, “Need a ride?”

“Only if you don’t mind the blood stains on my pants.”

His eyes widened in mock surprise. “Oh, dear. I think I might have some feminine products in the glove box.”

Esther laughed and closed the door behind her. “Not that kind of blood, sweetness.”

“Hey, that’s my name for you. Find your own.”

She stuck her tongue out at him and watched the city fly by in the windshield. “Hmm… what do you think of _lapochka_? It’s a Russian word I picked up when I lived there.”

“You lived in Russia?”

“Yeah, for a few years.”

He could tell that she wasn’t going to say anymore, so Victor cleared his throat and tried a different angle. “What does it mean?”

“It’s like sweetness… I don’t know the direct translation, but it’s like honey or sweetie pie. Pet names like that.”

He smiled at her in the rear view mirror. “So I’m your sweetie pie? That’s not where I thought we were, but I’ll take it.”

She slapped his arm gently. “Not like that! That’s just the closest I can think of to sweetness.” She pulled out her phone and typed a few commands. “Google says the direct translation of sweetness is _sladost’_. What about that?”

He shook his head. “No, I liked the first one better. Lapooka, or whatever it was.”

She laughed, putting her phone away. “_Lapochka_? If that’s what you prefer…”

“Yep. I’m your sweetie pie, Esther. No backing out of it now.”

They arrived in front of a large, overly grand building in a much nicer part of town, and Victor opened Esther’s door for her as usual. “Here we are. Now if you’ll follow me...”

Taking his outstretched arm, she kept pace with his long strides until they reached what looked like an employee entrance. She raised her eyebrow at him, but said nothing as he led her through the back door into a darkened theater. The film playing looked to be about halfway through already, but they sat down in the back row and whispered together about what the story might be.

“It’s a romantic comedy, gotta be. The guy in blue just proposed to the girl in red.”

“How do you figure?”

“It’s basic color theory. Red and blue are used as opposites, like fire and water, and opposites attract. And they’re in Paris. Nobody takes their coworker up to the top of the Eiffel tower, they’re obviously in love.”

“Hmm. Wait! The girl in red is crying, and she doesn’t look happy. I think he told her he loved her and she didn’t reciprocate.”

They were quiet for a moment as they watched the scene play out. A few people had turned to give them angry looks, but they ignored them and began talking again.

“Aw, I think you’re right. Too bad. I bet she’s got another lover somewhere waiting for her, and that’s why she can’t be with blue guy.”

“Probably. Should I steal that lady’s popcorn? She keeps staring at us and I’m hungry.”

“Yeah, go for it. I want some too.”

Victor reached down to the row in front of them and picked up the bucket of popcorn, causing the woman to fight back until she realized who was holding her snack. Her face went pale and she withered back into her seat.

“Here ya go, sweetness. Have all you like.”

Forgetting about the movie almost entirely, she gazed at him instead. He really was cute.


	5. Chapter 5

It wasn’t long after her day sneaking into apartments and movie theaters that Esther could delay meeting Falcone’s daughter any longer. The idea had been suggested multiple times already by her godfather, and she had run out of excuses not to meet with some woman she had no real interest in. But without the support of her godfather, she would have a much harder time staying afloat in the choppy waters of Gotham. What little she had heard about Sofia Falcone was that she could be the poster child for entitled rich girls, and it wasn’t putting a good image in Esther’s head. Sofia was around her age, maybe a little older. She had been born and bred into the life of an elite while Esther…

“Good morning! Lovely day, isn’t it?” Sofia’s sickly sweet voice called out to her from the garden. She was wearing a white sundress that made a stark contrast to her godsister’s ripped jeans and black bomber jacket.

“It’s alright. Nothing beats a sunrise in the Alps, though. The view is breathtaking...too bad I can’t go back.”

Sofia leaned forward, intrigued. “And why can’t you?”

“I may or may not have gotten myself put on their national ‘Most Wanted’ list after I blew up their president a couple years ago.” Seeing her face, Esther waved a hand nonchalantly. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing new.” She took a sip of her mimosa. “Subtlety has never been my strong suit.”

“That...that’s horrible.” Sofia leaned away from the table and set her fork down, having apparently lost her appetite.

“So it is.” Esther put her feet up on an empty chair and took a pastry from the plates in front of her. “These are pretty good...what are they called?”

“Beignets.” The word was obviously forced out and Esther decided not to push her any further. The poor girl was probably sheltered beyond belief, and what had already been said was enough to upset her. Without bothering to come up with an excuse, Sofia stood abruptly and went inside, leaving Esther to watch her go with a lazy smile on her face. It was hard not to relish in the other woman’s discomfort. After all, it was her job to hurt people.

Hoping this one instance would be enough to convince her godsister to leave her alone, Esther wrapped a few pastries in a napkin and brought them up to her room. She had always preferred being alone, but there was a nagging feeling in the back of mind...like maybe she was just trying to convince herself.

“Any good movies to crash tonight?” sent 12:34

“Wouldn’t count on it. How about we try something a little different?” sent 12:39

“What do you have in mind?” sent 12:40

“You’ll see ;) I’ll pick you up at 6” sent 12:40

What Victor had in mind was a sushi restaurant that was only accessible by going in through a lounge on the floor below. He had instructed Esther to wear something nice, but other than that it was all a secret until they were walking arm in arm to a back table of the dimly lit room.

“Seems like fun equates to food with you, _lapochka_.”

He smiled at the pet name, remembering their earlier conversation. “Oh this isn’t just a place to eat. Look over there.” He pointed to a white-haired man sitting in a booth full of armed guards. “That’s Charles Mayberry, he’s the biggest hotshot in the cheese business this side of the Atlantic.”

Esther giggled under her breath. “Cheese?”

Victor’s expression turned comically serious. “You can make fun all you want, but that man is worth more than you can imagine.”

“More than a yacht full of gold-plated, jewel encrusted Ferraris?”

“Much more.” He pointed toward another man, this one sitting with a woman in an obviously designer gown. “That’s Hayato Adachi and his wife, Mei-Lin. They’ve got a monopoly over the indigo trade in Japan.”

“Hmm...what do you think their Ferraris look like?”

He chuckled and flipped through his menu. “I bet they’ve got platinum rims and the windows are tinted with scorpion venom or something even more ridiculously expensive.”

When the waiter came by, Victor ordered for the both of them, earning him a glare of annoyance. “I know, I know. I just really want you to try this, and this way I can make sure we can’t go halvsies like last time.” She gave him another look. “What? I want to pay, so I’m going to. Gotta show you I can be a gentleman if I want to.”

Esther smiled and sipped at her wine. “I thought you did that by opening doors for me and carrying me to my room when I fall asleep in your car?”

“That too.” He winked and rested his chin in his hand. “Esther…”

“Yeah?” There was something so dreamlike about being with Victor. It was like his presence made her relax. The way he looked at her didn’t help.

“How long are you staying in Gotham?”

The question took her by surprise, though she should have seen it coming. Somebody was sure to ask sooner or later. “I-I don’t know. Maybe forever...maybe not.”

“Forever is a long time...you sure you want to room with your godfather for the rest of your life?” The look he was giving her was only intensifying.

“What are you asking, Victor?” She leaned toward him, whispering the words like a secret.

Before he could respond, the waiter was sliding a plate in between them and topping off their wine. It looked amazing - the roe on top of the sushi caught the light and made the whole meal seem to glitter. Victor waited for her to take a bite, watching to see how she would react to the taste.

“This is incredible...good thing I didn’t order, I guess.” Esther gave him a smile, which he returned, mumbling something under his breath. Something that may have sounded like, “You look incredible.”

Clearing his throat, he spoke up again. “I’m glad you like it. If I didn’t say so before, you look especially stunning tonight.”

Esther thought she would never see the day when she could make the assassin in front of her blush, but there he was, red to the ears. “Thank you, _lapochka_. I’m pretty used to seeing you dressed up, but that just means you’re always stunning.”

The redness was only getting brighter, and he filled his mouth with sushi in lieu of response.

Esther took his hand across the table, curling her fingers into his. “Is this our first date?”

Managing not to choke, he finished his bite and forced himself to meet her eyes. “If you’d like.”

She nodded, studying him for a while without speaking. “When we were talking about me living at the manor...were you asking me to go home with you?”

Her words were quiet, tone gentle and sweet. No one had ever seen this side of her before...not really. Any relationship Esther had had in the past never lasted long, and the emotions Victor made her feel were very very new. That being said, change was not her enemy. Staying in one place too long gave her the jitters, but maybe if she was staying with Victor, things could be different.

“If you’d like.” The redness had calmed, but he was still giving her that look, the one that said, 'I’ll be here for you. Just you.'


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one might be a little graphic to some readers, so you might want to skip it if you don't like mild blood and gore.

Many more dates later, Esther and Victor were in a comfortable relationship. When they realized that she was spending more time at his place than anywhere else, she slowly started transferring all of her things to the black house on the edge of Gotham. Far, but not too far from her godfather’s manor. His or her things became theirs, mannerisms started manifesting in each other. They had special mugs that were only for them, no sharing allowed, but most everything in the house could no longer be traced back to one of them. They were a team at home and on the job more often than not. So aware of each other that a look was worth a thousand words.

On a chilly December day, Esther braced herself against the wind, bundling closer into her scarf. It was her day off and she had taken full advantage of the clear, sunny weather. She had woken up late, gone into a few shops to look for a Christmas present for Victor, then strolled around the park until the wind got too strong. Reaching the front door, she fumbled around in her pockets for her key.

The house was dark as usual, but there was an uneasy feeling she couldn’t shake. Something was different...wrong, somehow. Stepping over the threshold and flipping the light switch, Esther knew what it was. She could now see a little further in to where blood stains crept out from the kitchen. Not stopping to take her coat or shoes off, she ran into the other room to find her boyfriend sprawled out on the tile with a pool of blood underneath him.

“Victor?” Her voice caught and tears stung her eyes when he didn’t move.

Kneeling beside where he lay slumped against the cabinets, she tried to find his pulse. It was weak, but it was there. Carefully moving his arm away from his bloody chest, he grunted when her fingers grazed his shoulder.

She winced and moved to better reach the buttons of his shirt. “Sorry _lapochka_, I know it hurts.”

As gently as possible, Esther tugged the fabric away from the now visible gunshot wound in his shoulder. Murmuring in pain, he stayed unconscious as she felt along his back to see whether the bullet had gone all the way through. She let out a sigh of frustration as her fingers came away clean. She would have to dig it out.

Gritting her teeth, Esther stood up and grabbed a towel from the counter to put over his shoulder, setting Victor’s hand over it to soak up the blood. She pulled him down by his ankles so that he was laying flat on the floor to could make things easier on the both of them. As she started yanking open drawers to find something to use as forceps, she heard a faint whisper from below.

“Esther?” He struggled to move and she knelt beside him to keep him steady.

“Stay right here, Vic. I’ve gotta get that shell out of you.” Resuming her frantic searching, she heard a gravelly chuckle.

What?” Esther grabbed the tweezers hidden under a pile of random tools and turned around to face him.

“The shell doesn’t hit the target, dummy.” He was smiling, the bastard.

She huffed and rolled her eyes, moving to where she could position herself directly above the wound. “Whatever. I’m not the one who got themselves shot.”

Victor began to shrug, but the white hot pain made him think better of it. “Gordon’s got a new team. They’re not normal police...more like a task force. One of them got me on accident when they lost their footing...think they were trying to aim for my head.”

Cloth fully soaked, Esther threw it into the sink and braced her left arm on his chest, keeping her right as steady as possible as she dug the tweezers into the torn skin.

“Just couldn’t keep your hands off me, could y-_damn_ that hurts!”

Ignoring him, she wiggled the tweezers further in until she felt them hit metal. “Gotcha.”

Pulling it out was much more difficult than she presumed; the narrow, jagged path coupled with a bit of suction made it almost impossible. Hearing Victor’s groaning wasn’t helping either. “I know, I know. Just a second...there.”

Slick with blood, it wasn’t a pretty sight. Esther dumped the bullet in the sink with the cloth and grabbed the roll of bandages she had found in her search for the tweezers. Helping Victor lift himself up, she leaned him back against the cabinets and set to work bandaging the wound. “You’re lucky it missed the bone.”

“Do I still get a day off?” They looked at each other for a moment in silence before laughing in unison at the absurdity of it all.

“Yeah, honey. If you don’t get time off to heal I’ll have a word with whoever I need to.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And when you say a word…”

“A word with some blackmail and/or physical violence attached, yes.” She smiled, though there was a weight in her chest that had been building since she first saw the bloodstains seeping out of the kitchen. It had waited until she could clear her head before it settled in and reminded her of how human her boyfriend really was. “Love you, dummy.”

“Love you, too.”

After dressing and bandaging the wound, Esther helped Victor over to the sofa to lay down on a softer surface. “Promise you’ll be alright while I clean up?”

“Don’t worry, sweetness, I’ll be good.”

She kissed the top of his head and set about wiping down the floor and the cabinets, keeping all of her grumpy thoughts about how much it would cost to replace them to herself. Mixing up a tried-and-true solution for getting blood out of just about anything, she exhausted their clean towel supply mopping it all up. She rummaged through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom for some pain meds for Victor, then took a shower to wash away all the grime. Once the water around her feet ran clear, she got out and threw out the clothes she had been wearing along with Victor’s shirt. This had never been her forte, as she typically left the scene as it was, but Esther felt pretty proud of her bio-recovery abilities.

“How ya feeling, _lapochka_?”

“Alright for an invalid.” He smiled up at her from the sofa, beckoning her closer with his good arm. “Could use a little comfort, though. It can be quite a shock to pass out in a pool of your own blood, you know.”

“Is that so?” She sat on the other end of the sofa and removed each of his shoes before beginning to rub one of his feet. “I’ll call Falcone later tonight if you don’t feel up to it.”

“Nah, I don’t mind. I never really call in sick, so I don’t see why he would say no this time.” He relaxed into her touch, clearly enjoying himself. “Could you go back to that spot? A little lower, yeah right there.”

“How does somebody even get knots in their foot?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, sweetness.”

Esther was quiet for a moment as she thought about everything Victor had said about the task force. “You think we should look into this? The stuff with the GCPD, I mean. It seems strange that they would suddenly be all up in arms about the crime rates here when nothing has really changed. It’s the same old Gotham, so why up the manpower?”

He hummed to himself, mulling it over. “I don’t know, but if it makes you feel better, I can ask around while you’re at work tomorrow. I’ve got a few people I can call who might know a thing or two.”

“Thanks, Vic. We should probably get to bed, yeah?”

He sighed and looked over at the clock, which read 9:03. “An early night sounds good to me. You sure you want me staining the bed, though?”

She shrugged and helped him sit up. “How am I supposed to sleep without you?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mild gore? I honestly don't remember

Victor being relegated to bed rest meant that Esther was expected to take on some of his work load. Normally she would look forward to the longer hours spent learning from the city and searching out every secret it had to offer, but worry for her boyfriend dampened the thrill. Checking in with one last text before entering the bar, she sighed as she tucked her phone away. At least she’d get some top shelf liquor for her nerves.

The name of the game was intimidation, and that meant showmanship. Esther kicked open the door of the bar, knowing full well that none of the patrons were innocent bystanders to the fraud and murder committed regularly in the back room. She waltzed up to the bar and jumped easily to a standing position on the countertop.

“Hello everyone, my name is Esther Calloway. I am so very heartbroken to inform you all that I have been sent to….shall we say, take out the trash.”

And with that announcement, the room erupted into chaos. Guns appeared from coats and holsters, bullets flying like a swarm of deadly insects while the wielders shouted to each other, but the words were lost on Esther. She was moving too fast, and her focus was on the path of the knives in her hands. Still standing on the bar, she kicked one gunman in the face, sending blood and at least one tooth flying. Cloth swishing behind her alerted Esther to a man lunging at her legs, only to land hard on the granite after she leaped onto a nearby table. Wood creaking in the midst of gunfire, she didn’t stop moving; springing to and from tables and chairs with quick jabs at each man she passed. Sweeping her leg under one man, she slashed at another’s ankle, severing the tendon. The screams of pain didn’t faze her; she was in her element. A punch to the face, a kick between the legs, a knife to the throat, it was all routine. Esther moved with the fluidity of a river cutting through the earth, slashing and stabbing with speed and accuracy learned from years of practice. Experience dulled the brutality of her work, but only in her own mind. The bodies laying at her feet might have thought differently.

In the corner of her eye, Esther noticed that one of those bodies was still twitching. Rolling her shoulders to feel the pop of her joints, she calmly walked over to the bloody man and set her foot against his chest. He gurgled something unintelligible, and she leaned down to hear.

“What was that?”

“St-Strange...paid for...the hit. Lotta money.”

That was a new one. Esther had never heard of someone named Strange, and by this time she was familiar with every crime boss in town. The hit itself was nothing special, just a simple shooting at a pharmacy downtown. Owner killed, store ransacked, expensive meds stolen. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Esther was about to ask him for more information but his eyes had already glazed over. Sighing, she wiped her bloody shoes on the doormat and stepped out into the sun.

The phone rang beside her ear for much longer than she thought necessary, as Victor couldn’t easily leave the bed.

“Hi honey, do you have the laptop nearby?”

“Yeah, why?”

She paused to watch the crosswalk sign for the go ahead, picking up the conversation once she began to cross the street. “Could you do a little research on somebody named Strange? I’m assuming it’s the last name.”

“Sure, was he the benefactor or something?”

“Seems like it. One of the guys at the bar said he paid big bucks for the hit, but it doesn’t really sound like a top tier kind of job.”

She heard him sigh into the receiver. “I think you’re right...there’s gotta be something else here. I’ll look into it, sweetness, don’t you worry.”

She smiled to herself as she passed the deli with the only reliable cold cuts in town. “Thanks, _lapochka_. I’ll be home soon.”

“I’ll be waiting.” He hated being confined to the house and Esther hated that she couldn’t do anything to fix it. Not being able to use his arm was bad enough, but the pain from just moving his shoulder slightly tired him out so easily that normal excursions were exhausting. Neither of them were used to being cooped up for so long, and it was really starting to get to him, so she resolved to do what she could to make his world a little bigger.

When she found Victor, he had moved to the living room and the TV was showing a soccer game. The volume was too low to hear it properly, but she knew he just liked to have it on for background noise. “Hey honey, found anything interesting?”

He took his feet off the coffee table to let her by. “Maybe...there’s more than one Strange in Gotham, but the only one with money is Dr. Hugo Strange. I don’t know what he does now, but he used to be friends with Thomas Wayne.”

“Hmm,” Esther threw the pillows on the floor so she could sit next to him. “Must have been pretty influential to know somebody like that on a personal level. You’re sure this guy is the only candidate?”

He put his good arm around her and leaned his head on hers. “Think so, yeah. The other two Stranges were blue collar guys who probably wouldn’t blow money on a hit when they could use it to pay rent. Unless your man didn’t actually say Strange, I’d bet this is our guy.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll ask Falcone about it tomorrow, but it’s probably just some argument that got out of control.” She looked up at him, taking in the paleness that had gained a little more color in the past few days. “Let’s go get breakfast.”

“Sweetness, it’s past noon.”

“It’s never too late for breakfast. Come on, you need some fresh air.”

Patty’s was open from ten to ten, so business was up and running when the bell on the door signaled their arrival. Carlie nodded to them and went into the kitchen without bothering to give them menus. Victor winced as he sat down a little too hard on the vinyl seat, causing Esther to frown.

“It’s alright, I’m fine. Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

Carlie was back with two glasses of water and a vanilla milkshake with two straws, then she was back to the kitchen for the rest.

“Like I’m ten seconds from dying.” He smirked at her deepening frown. “Really dear, I’m fine.”

She put her hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I know you’re not made of glass, but you can’t fault me for worrying. I’ve only got one of you and I can’t get another!”

He winked and took her hand, lifting it to his lips with a smile. “Love you, too.”

Carlie came back with their food, the order memorized over time. “Here ya go, enjoy!”

Esther began unwrapping both sets of silverware. “Thanks, Carlie, we will.”


	8. Chapter 8

Falcone had a bit more insight than the internet. “Hugo Strange, hm? I believe he works at Arkham Asylum, but I may be wrong. Why does he interest you, Esther?”

They were sitting in his study, as they had done many times since she barged in to find a handful of guns trained on her head. “One of the targets from my last job said he paid a lot of money for the hit on the pharmacy, but it’s just not sitting right with me.”

He gave her time to form her thoughts, studying her expression closely.

“Why would this be an expensive hit if it’s just a shooting with a few things stolen. Normally this would be way lower profile.”

Falcone crossed one leg over the other and fixed his gaze on the bookshelf behind her, seemingly lost in thought. After a long pause, he asked, “What was stolen? Do you know?”

“Just some pills. Don’t know whether it was on the shelves or in the back, but I’d guess the latter.”

“Have Victor look into it. It might be valuable to know what was stolen and how the dead man is linked to the doctor.” He watched her as she stood. “How is he, by the way?”

Esther ran a hand through her hair and forced a tired smile. “He’s getting better. Still can’t sleep too well, but he’s been taking it easy at home.”

“That’s good to hear. Take care of yourself, my dear.”

“I will, thanks Carmine.” If it was up to Esther, she would always refer to her godfather by his last name, but he insisted on relaxing formalities when they met face to face. It was still uncomfortable to say, but she would indulge his wishes to that point.

Shrugging off the odd feelings of the day, she picked up some coffee and brought it back to Victor, who was ready at the computer to be a part of the mystery.

“Black coffee for me, vanilla frapp for the sugar addict.”

“At least I’m not going to get addicted to caffeine.” Victor took a long satisfied sip of his drink and opened a new tab on the computer. “So what’s new with Hugo?”

Esther took the lid off her coffee to cool on the table. “Apparently he works at Arkham. Falcone and I think we should look into the shooting a little more, though. Might give us a hint as to why Hugo wanted this guy dead.”

“Okie dokie, let’s take a look at the newspaper from that day. Was it the second?”

“Seventh.” She snuggled closer and breathed in his scent that had become so comforting.

“Okay...here we go. Gotham Gazette, September seventh.” She loved the way his jaw set when he was concentrating. “Armed robbery at Smithfield Pharmacy...owner shot and killed...doesn’t look like they caught the guy.”

“I don’t think the guy who did it matters much now that the whole crew is dead.”

Victor gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. “Good job today, by the way. Already got an angry call from Joey after he found out you got rid of his best customers.”

“Is Joey the one with the motorcycle who sells drugs to gangs or the one with the Buick that has a full armory in his garage?”

“First one, which is exactly why I didn’t give him much sympathy. Don’t know why he thinks sharing intel once and awhile makes us friends, but here we are.”

She wiggled until her head was resting on his lap. “Doubt he’ll talk to you much now.”

He lifted the laptop to allow for her wiggling and made a face, clearly unhappy that he had to reposition. “Quit moving. Now let’s see about the owner…” Despite the light protesting, he rested his bad arm on her stomach so she could hold his hand in hers. “Owen Sykowski, okay, who are you?”

With a little more digging, Mr. Sykowski turned out to be a former employee of Arkham Asylum who left a year and a half prior to the shooting to work at his dad’s store after his passing.

Victor turned the screen so Esther could see, then read aloud from the article. “It is rumored that Sykowski left after accruing bad blood with the director and head psychiatrist of the asylum, Hugo Strange.” He paused to share a raised eyebrow with her. “However, it is far more likely that he wished to carry on his father’s legacy by reopening the pharmacy that had been left to him. Either way, Sykowski’s death is a tragedy that should not simply be buried under the mountain of crime reports, blah blah blah.”

“Not much chance of that, I’m afraid. Does it say what was stolen?”

He scanned through the rest of the article, then brought up the next. “This one says it was some really expensive stuff for chemo patients. Attacks the cells or something like that...I think it’s called zenolphydate, but I’m guessing that’s not the generic name.”

“Might not have one if it’s rare. What does Strange want with chemo meds? You would think he could just pay for them if he’s willing to blow cash on a hit like that.”

He shrugged. “To make a point, maybe. Or he just had the shooter steal it while he was there since it would be easy. No paperwork, no pay, no problem.”

Esther played with his fingers while she mulled over the new information. “Did it say what the bad blood was about?”

“No, but I’ll keep looking.”

They spent the evening on the sofa, listening to the tap of the keyboard with empty coffee cups on the table and music wafting softly from the TV after sports were replaced by an old black and white movie about a girl who falls in love with the man who kidnapped her for ransom money. Esther drifted in and out of sleep, only catching half scenes and half murmurs under her boyfriend’s breath. It was peaceful in a way that contradicted everything about her, but it felt so right.

“Esther,” He whispered, so as not to startle her awake. “I think I found something.”

She yawned and blinked up at him. “Shoot.”

“I found employee records from right around the time Sykowski left Arkham. It said he was a medical assistant for three years, but that was all it had. No notable mentions for anything, no usual shifts, no Facebook posts from work friends, nothing. It’s like he never even stepped foot inside the place.”

“Weird.” She glanced at the clock and put her hand on his chest. “Let’s get to bed, yeah?”

“Sure, sweetness. There’s always time for more snooping tomorrow.”


	9. Chapter 9

The next day day did, in fact, bring more snooping. Esther had just finished making sure her target was well and truly dead when she heard a door shut behind her. Silently, she slipped into the next room and climbed out of the nearest window, scaling the wall to perch on the roof. Spotting the cop car waiting by the curb, she had an idea.

Cleaning the blood off was over in no time, then she was back on the street and headed to the GCPD. Esther knew without a doubt that talking to the cops was a major no-no, but the morning newspaper’s front headline made her think it was worth a peek. The no longer new recruit, Gordon, had made the front page by taking a trip to Arkham and telling the press that the director was currently being investigated. Not one to waste a lucky day, Esther walked into the building with only a few sideways glances. She was quick to build a reputation and it preceded her for miles.

She tapped an officer on the shoulder, asking, “Where’s Jim Gordon?”

A shaky hand pointed her to the opposite side of the room, where the man himself was speaking to a young boy.

“Thanks!”

All it took was a few steps in his direction and Gordon turned to address her. “What are you doing here, Calloway?”

“No need to be rude, Jimmy. I’m here to offer information.”

He eyed her suspiciously, wondering what the catch might be.

“All I ask in return is some information of yours. What do you say?” Her smile was too bright for a criminal.

Instead of an answer, he led the way up to the only real office. The boy had followed them, staying quiet with his hands behind his back. He closed the door after them and stood unnaturally straight in front of it like a five foot sentinel. She couldn’t help but smile; there was a soft spot in her heart for kids and animals, but everyone else had a chance of making her a little money. Gordon leaned on the desk, looking just as tired as the oldest cop in the place.

“Is this about the Arkham thing? I’m assuming you already know a lot of it.”

She smirked. “You could say that. Why is Brucie Wayne with us?”

The boy stepped forward to address her directly. “I am aiding Detective Gordon in the case against Strange.” He looked to Jim, who nodded. “We believe that he has been keeping seriously unethical treatment under wraps for years, many of which have had unnatural outcomes.”

Esther squinted and cocked her head to the side. “And what do you mean by unnatural?”

Gordon sighed and ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath. “Why am I doing this? Why am I sharing any of this with her?”

He seemed to make an internal decision, as he looked up at her to answer the question. “Batshit crazy side effects like claws for hands.” He gave her a moment to let the statement sink in. “Is that what you’re here about?”

“Yes and no. I didn’t know about the...experiments, shall we say, but I have been gathering information about the hit on Owen Sykowski and what Strange had to do with it.”

Gordon visibly winced. “Okay. Let’s...let’s just try and fit this puzzle together. Give us your side and we’ll fit that into what we know.”

Esther happily obliged, eager to learn more about the people with claw hands. When she had finished recapping her and Victor’s research, Jim managed to look even more tired and Bruce had let his posture slip just a smidge.

“So...Sykowski must have found out about the ethics violations and left, but he knew too much, so Strange called a hit on him. We can agree on this?” Met with approval, he continued. “Unfortunately, this means he also put a hit on Jennings, but that wasn’t too hard to figure out.”

“Jennings?”

Bruce cut in, “The woman with the claw hands. She’s already dead.”

Esther nodded, secretly disappointed that she would never get to see them. “So where do we go from here? Don’t make me promise to keep this a secret because I am absolutely telling Victor about all of this as soon as I get home.”

Gordon frowned, then relaxed again. “Forgot you meant Zsasz for a second there. Still out of commission?”

She gave him her most crooked grin. “Not for long.”

He returned a strained smile and rubbed his temples. “Alright, I say we call it a day and I’ll call you if we learn anything else.”

“Right back at ya, big guy.” He frowned as she winked at him.

Even with all of this insanity rattling around in her head, Esther still had to do mundane things like getting groceries and washing dishes. The rest of her day was spent doing chores with Victor helping where he could until she got frustrated and kicked him out of the kitchen.

“_Lapochka_, I love you, but you need to go somewhere else.”

“What do you mean? Those jars go in the fridge and you know it.”

“Only after they’re opened, how many times do I have to tell you? You know what, I’m taking a break. Put the jars wherever.”

She stomped away just to come back minutes later to an apology on both sides. This was the extent of any argument they had, which were few and far between. Domestic bliss came surprisingly easy to two assassins.

After taking the time to finish putting away the groceries and catch up on what Victor had missed at the GCPD, they started brainstorming what else they could find out about Strange and his experiments.

“If Gordon can arrest him, then we can go take a look at the patients. Though I doubt he’d want us to.”

“Not like that would stop us.”

“Of course not, sweetness, of course not.”

“Why even tell him, right?”

“Sometimes I think you can read minds.” He tossed her the keys from a hook by the front door. “Go start the car, I’ll be out in a minute.”

He was out of the sling, but Esther still worried about him. Nevertheless, she left him to slide behind the wheel, something she would never get used to. Until a bullet was fired into Victor’s shoulder, he was the only one allowed to even consider driving his car.

The passenger door slammed behind him, and he waved a shiny, silver pistol in the air. “Couldn’t forget these, now could I?” They shared a smile as Esther pulled out of the driveway. “They were hiding under a pile of laundry, but I didn’t know that until about two minutes ago. Been so long since I've had to find these that I figured I'd just let you warm the car up while I looked around for them."

She nodded, focused on the road. “Arkham here we come.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are about to get a little crazy, but if you've watched Gotham, it's not like you're unprepared.


	10. Chapter 10

No cop cars in the parking lot, which was a little unusual. It seemed like every day there was another maniac being carted away to the asylum. The two of them knew they couldn’t just bank on intimidation and reputation to carry them through this one, so they opted for picking the lock of an employee entrance far away from the main doors. Armed to the teeth and willing to take out anyone who got in the way, they slipped into what appeared to be the break room. Cabinets, a refrigerator, and an ice machine lined the walls of the small room. The fluorescent lights flickered and buzzed from above and the grout in the floor tiles looked like they hadn’t been cleaned since the place opened. It was pathetic, and they moved along quickly.

The hall just outside the break room was empty until a young man in a lab coat turned the corner holding a clipboard, which he was giving his full attention. They glanced at each other as if to say, 'this is too easy', then Esther lunged at the man, pinning him to the wall with a hand over his mouth.

“Where is Strange’s office? Point for me.” She whispered to him softly as Victor unholstered his guns. The young man pointed up, right, then right again.

“Is he in there right now?” He wagged his finger no. “Thank you.”

She spun him around and into the break room. Victor shut the door and locked it.

Taking his hand, she led them up and to the right until they found a door at the end of the hall. There weren’t many people around, and it was easy to avoid the ones who were. The door wasn’t locked, and sure enough, Strange was not inside.

“This place gives me the creeps.”

“You and me both, sweetness.”

They rummaged through his belongings, not caring whether he would notice something amiss later on. If they got what they wanted, Strange would be much more concerned about other things. Finding nothing of importance, they turned to leave, freezing in place when they heard voices outside.

“Doctor, are you sure the patient is ready? He is still quite unstable.”

“That is precisely what I am so excited about, Ms. Peabody. He has been taking to his lessons rather well, and I believe he will be of great use to us.”

Esther and Victor looked at each other, silently arguing over what to do. The decision made for them, the voices faded and the sound of metal scraping against metal rang out further down the hall. After the noises stopped, Victor opened the door just enough to see out, then motioned for her to follow him. The metallic sound had come from an opening at the end of the hall that was closing very quickly. Esther threw a knife that stuck between the doors, keeping them open just wide enough for the both of them to pry them wider. It was no simple task, but the bruises on their fingers would be gone with time. What awaited them was an elevator shaft.

“Guess all we can do is wait.” Seeing her expression, he clarified, “Even if we did just jump down the shaft, we still couldn't get past the car to the opening. We don’t even know how far down it is.”

Esther gave him an exaggerated frown and leaned forward to rest her head on his arm. 

He turned to put his other arm around her waist, rubbing circles into the small of her back. “Just think, we’re so close to finding weird stuff that can get some guy arrested...wait, why are we doing this?” He backed up, suddenly realizing the uselessness of his sneaking around a high security asylum in the first place.

“Well, it started with the hit on Sykowski and how weird we thought it was.”

“Right.”

“And then I talked to Gordon and got excited about people with claw hands.”

“Right.”

"And I told him I would keep him updated on what we found out about this operation Strange is running."

"Right."

“And I kinda just want to see some messed up stuff.”

He didn’t respond to that, but she could tell he wasn’t really upset.

“Don’t pretend like you’re not curious. And we’ve already gotten this far with no problem, might as well go see the zoo he’s hiding down there.”

Victor sighed and shrugged, which was good enough for her.

When the elevator reached the top of the cable, they made a timely descent to another hallway that was spotless by comparison. The floor was clean enough to eat off of, as was everything else in sight. There were a few doors leading down the hall until a turn cut off the view. They advanced toward it, peering into the small windows on each door. The rooms were all dark, but unsettling noises could still be heard. Whines and whimpers mixed with growls and other sounds that couldn’t be described.

They took a right expecting more doors, but were met with an open area instead. It looked to be an operating room with gurneys and tables set up in orderly rows. Sharing a grimace at the thought of what operations might be performed there, they continued.

The next hall had the same darkened doors and pristine white walls. Unlike the first, it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. No scraping, no squealing, nothing at all. Esther put a finger to her lips and walked slowly to the next hall with Victor close behind. The silence seemed to follow, filling up the space around them until it was almost suffocating. Sensing Esther tense up, he grabbed her hand in a wordless reassurance.

Another atrium greeted them without the tables and equipment. It was an open space that split off into four other hallways, each the same as the others.

“Eenie meenie minie moe?”

“Hmm…” Victor walked a little ways down each hall, returning unsatisfied with any of them. “I don’t like this.”

“You aren’t supposed to like it.” A new voice echoed off the walls of the second hall. Hugo Strange and his assistant joined them in the atrium. “This is cutting edge science based on principles that are not typically well received. The work we do here is imperative to expanding our knowledge of human capability.” He eyed both of them, lingering on their faces for a moment too long.

Peabody cleared her throat, signalling Strange to glance at her and continue. “It really is good to have you both here...though I dare say you could have scheduled an appointment.”

He began walking back down the hallway he had come from. Esther squeezed Victor’s hand and he squeezed back. They followed at a distance.

Strange and Peabody led them to a door that seemed no different from any other, but they looked at each other like they were unsure of whether to turn the knob. After a moment of silent deliberation, he let the door swing open and gestured for them to step inside.

“I’ll wait here.” Victor positioned himself in the doorway so that they couldn’t be locked in.

She glanced at Strange, wondering what she was going to find. He had been glad to see them. Why? Taking a tentative step inside, she felt along the wall until her fingers grazed a light switch. Flicking it on, she covered her mouth to suppress a gasp. Two young children with shaggy dark hair were blinking up at her, still adjusting to the light. The bigger of the two held the smaller one close to her chest in a protective sort of way as he slept.

“Hi guys, I’m Esther.” She spoke softly and stayed put, not wanting to scare them. “What are your names?”

The children didn’t answer, but the bigger one held the other tighter. Strange spoke to her from the hall, “These are D4 and D5, the latest versions of the strain. We had hoped to contact you both when we were more confident in this project, but we may as well tell you now. D4 and D5 were born here, in Indian Hill.”

Esther and Victor shared a confused look, then turned to Strange for him to elaborate.

“This is the part of Arkham Asylum that deals in genetic experimentation. We would never put any of our patients in harm’s way by crossing over. Anyway, this strain and others like it were created using DNA samples collected from individuals who make a difference in our community. People like the two of you, who are capable enough to be named the most high profile assassins in Gotham.”

Victor’s face was stony and his jaw was set. “You stole our DNA to create monsters.”

“Ah ah ah, not monsters, Victor. New species that could rid this city of crime. And there was no stealing involved, we found bits and pieces from crime scenes, such as blood and hair follicles. Our work is done with honor, though many won't see it that way.”

Esther was still facing the children and she sat down on the cold floor to see them eye to eye while her boyfriend talked with Strange.

“So these are our kids? This is insane. Who is going to take care of a bunch of super-powered children?”

Esther was still quiet, waiting for the kids to make a move. She was trying her hardest to come off as an ally, someone who wouldn’t stick them with needles or strap them to metal tables. She paid no attention to the others. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I won’t hurt you.”

The smaller child woke up at the sound of her voice and reached toward her, gurgling and smiling. Able to see him better, Esther was surprised to see that he was only a baby, while the other was at least four or five. “Hi sweetie! You and your sister wanna come sit with me? I promise I’m warmer than the corner over there.”

The baby squealed louder, earning a poke and a shush from his sister, who then turned back to Esther. “Why?” Her voice was scratchy, like she didn’t use it much.

“Because I want to get to know you! It’s not that often that I get to hang out with kids, and it’s nice to get away from adults once and awhile.” A bold faced lie, but the older child looked a little less guarded anyway. She needed to protect them from Strange.

Victor called out to her again, not getting her attention the first time. “Did you hear me? These are our kids! These people took our DNA and created a new species with it!”

She whipped around to face him with a huge smile plastered across her face. “Really? Let’s take them home!”

He put his head in his hands, sighing into his palms. “Esther, we don’t even know how to take care of regular kids, what are we gonna do when somebody starts breathing fire or whatever they can do?”

Peabody interjected with a bit of bitterness in her voice. “They do not breath fire, and you will not be taking them home. These specimens are highly important to the work we are doing here and-”

Esther butted in indignantly. “Oh we absolutely are! These kids have our DNA, they belong with us and deserve to be taken care of by real parents. I don’t care what they can do!”

Knowing his girlfriend would not be giving this up, Victor sighed again and looked at the children still hiding in the corner of the room. “Let’s go, sweetness. We’ll need to stop by a few stores on the way home so we can actually take care of the kids.”

Her face lit up and she held out her arms to the children. “Ready to go? Our house is way nicer than this place, and we’ll take you to see the city tomorrow!”

The older girl looked at her brother, who was laughing and waving his chubby baby arms, then to each of her new parents. “Okay.”

She didn’t sound very sure, but that was good enough for Esther. “C’mere, I’ll carry you.”

The girl walked hesitantly over with her brother.

“I’ll hold her, you take the little guy.” Victor stooped down to pick her up, smiling reassuringly when she seemed wary to hand over the baby.

With each child wrapped safely in the arms of their parents, Strange and Peabody only stared as they left.

“Ms. Peabody, I believe this will be an excellent test of how our specimens will function outside of this facility, don’t you think?”

“Yes, sir, I agree completely.”


	11. Chapter 11

With the kids seated in the back of the car, Esther conceded the driver’s seat to her boyfriend, though she didn’t like the idea one bit. She was in the back with D4 and D5 trying to help them come up with new names.

“Well those are just the labels they gave you to tell you guys apart from the others, they’re not really names.”

“How do we pick new ones?” The girl had become more talkative as they all spent more time together. Esther could tell she had been scared of Strange, and assumed that was why she wouldn’t interact much at Indian Hill.

“Well we can look through the phone book when we get home, or sometimes songs will have names in them. _Lapochka_, will you turn on the radio?”

He obliged without a word, but he did spare a glance at them through the rear view mirror. The last few lines of a Police song filled the car, and the girl smiled at the sound.

“What’s this?”

“This is called Synchronicity II.” The radio announcer ushered in another hit by the same band. “And this one is called Roxanne.”

She bobbed her head in time, humming along when the chorus circled back in. “I like this one.”

“Yeah? You think you’d wanna be called Roxanne?”

She nodded, still beaming.

“Alright then, Roxanne, can I call you Roxy for short?”

“Yeah! I wanna be Roxy!”

Esther laughed, happy to be making progress with her. “What should we call your brother?”

“I don’t know...can we look at the fo book?”

“The phone book? Sure. We’ll be home really soon, then we can go look at the people and where they live to find a name for him.”

They had decided to skip on shopping until the next day, as it was late and everyone was tired. Roxy and Esther watched over D5 while Victor cleared up the guest room.

“How do you say that?” Roxy pointed at the location of a man named Thomas Jameson.

“Phoenix. That’s just a town here, but it was probably named after a big city in Arizona with the same name.”

“What’s Arizona?”

“Uh,” Esther didn’t really know how to explain that one. “It’s a state. We live in a country called the United States of America, and it’s all broken up into parts called states. Ours is New Jersey, and Arizona is further down south.”

Roxy made a face and continued looking through the book. After a few minutes, she flipped it closed and sat up from where she had been laying on her stomach. “I wanna call him Phoenix.”

“Yeah? You didn’t like Zachary after all?”

“No, I like this one better. We can call him Nix for short!”

“I like the sound of that. Let’s go see if your room is ready.”

Esther picked up the newly christened Nix and led Roxy to the guest room where Victor was finishing up inflating an air mattress. “We’ll do better once we can go to the store tomorrow, but this is the best we can do for now. Hop on and see what you think.”

Roxy did as she was told, bouncing up and down with a big smile. “We named him Nix!”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah! I like it here.”

“That’s good to hear, sweet pea. You hungry?”

“No, we ate before you came.”

Esther joined her with the baby. “What did you eat?”

“I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s red and squishy. They tried to give us other stuff before, but it made us sick.”

Esther and Victor shared a look of total confusion. “Was it meat?”

“I don’t know.”

Victor left the room for a moment and came back with some leftover pork chops from the fridge. “Did it look like this?”

Roxy leaned in to get a closer look. “Kinda. More red and squishy, but it smells a little bit like it.”

It was a good start. They brought in blankets and pillows for Roxy’s air mattress and found a cardboard box that they flattened the flaps down into to keep it open on the top so that it could be filled with a blanket for Nix. It wasn’t a crib, but it would keep him safe through the night. The room was right across the hall from where Victor and Esther slept, and both doors were kept open so that Roxy could call out if anything was wrong.

“Goodnight, sweet pea. Don’t be afraid to wake one of us up if you need to, okay?”

“Okay, night mommy.” It would take some getting used to, but she already loved hearing Roxy call her that.

Victor tucked her in and made sure Nix was comfortable. “Goodnight, kiddos.”

“Night daddy.” He didn’t know how to process being a father of two young children overnight, but it wasn’t as harrowing as he had assumed.

He turned the light off as he left, taking one last look at his kids before joining his girlfriend in their bathroom.

“This is insane.”

“I know, _lapochka_, but we got this. We’re the most capable people in Gotham, remember?”

“I think he said assassins specifically, but I appreciate the attempt to cheer me up.”

She swatted him lightly on the arm. “Oh come on, would it kill you to see the bright side?”

He draped himself over her shoulders, breathing in the scent of her lotion. “Maybe, haven’t tried it.”

Esther rolled her eyes at him in the mirror as he kissed her neck. “Everything is gonna work out, honey. Just you wait.”


	12. Chapter 12

The realization of the change in their lives set in over the course of the night, allowing each parent and child to wake up with a deep sense of unrest. Nix’s cries echoed into the hallway, alerting everyone else to his distress. Victor got up first, shuffling in his pajamas to carry him into the bathroom and fumble around for something to use as a clean diaper. Finding nothing but hand towels, he called out to Esther.

“What do you mean you’re just gonna put him in the bathtub?”

“I don’t know, he’s messy!”

She pulled on some sweatpants and a t-shirt, still shouting to Victor from the bedroom. “I’ll go get some diapers and whatever else we might need for the rest of the day.”

“Thanks, can you take Roxy with you?”

Not knowing what to do to keep their daughter safe from the cold without a toddler-sized jacket on hand, she wrapped the girl up in a blanket and carried her to the door. “Sure, we’ll be back soon!”

She ran through a list in her head, adding things and compromising on others, while driving out to the nearest shopping center. Roxy, still bundled up in her blanket cocoon, sang the Police song that gave her a name in the backseat. It didn’t take long before she was settled in the child seat of a grocery cart while her mother scoured each aisle for anything that looked like it might be for babies and toddlers. Roxy was allowed one toy at each store and pointed out plenty more than that. Nix got his share in the form of stuffed animals, a playpen that would hopefully keep him busy for longer, and all kinds of soft blankets and clothes. They bought necessities in bulk and walked all across the shopping center until Roxy started to whine.

“Alright, sweet pea, I won’t make you go into any more stores. You ready to go home?”

She nodded vigorously, her new purple elephant bobbing with her.

The pantry, the kids’ room, and the living room were full of new toys and supplies by the time the car had been unloaded. The diapers were taken straight to Victor and the baby, while Roxy was put down for a nap in her chosen polka-dot pajamas. Once they had a chance to sit down, it was almost noon.

“What do you think the red, squishy stuff was that Roxy was talking about last night?”

“I don’t know, but we’ve gotta feed them somehow.”

After Roxy woke up from her nap and joined them on the sofa, she was asked the same question with a similar answer.

“Is it sweet?”

“No, it’s kinda salty.”

“Is it chewy?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you draw it for me?” Esther grabbed some paper from the printer and a couple pens. Victor put a book in Roxy’s lap for support. As the mystery food took shape, it was undeniably meat of some kind. A blob of red and black (as a substitute for brown, Roxy told them,) with a pool of red liquid underneath.

“Is it steak?”

“Is that people food?”

They shared a confused look, hoping the other would respond. Victor shifted his weight, careful not to jostle Roxy too much in his lap. “Uh...yeah. People eat steak sometimes. Is this not people food?” He pointed to the drawing.

She shook her head, dark hair swishing around her ears. “No, we can’t have people food. The doctors took it away ‘cause it made us sick.”

This was not getting any more clear. Esther took another long look at the paper in her daughter’s hands. “Did the doctors say anything about this new food? Why it didn’t make you sick?”

Roxy thought for a moment, her small brow furrowing in concentration. “One time they said it _was_ people food, but I don’t think they meant it ‘cause they laughed.”

Victor rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “I think they meant it was actual people made into food. They were using human meat to feed the kids.”

Esther stared at her boyfriend, not wanting to believe him. Unfortunately, he was probably right. “How the hell are we going to find human meat? It’s not like they sell it at the grocery store.”

He sighed again. “I’ll find a seller at a morgue or something, I guess. People who have just died probably aren’t that unsafe for them, right?”

“Honey, I have no idea.”

The conversation was cut short by the muffled cries coming from the kids’ room. Victor nudged Roxy so she would move to Esther’s lap instead and got up. “I’ll see what he needs...will you call your dad or somebody?”

Esther nodded, wrapping Roxy in her arms. Falcone refused to learn how to text and email was almost as bad. Unless she wanted to wait for a letter to go through, she would have to brave the awkwardness of calling.

After two rings, the call connected. "Hi Carmine, I have a weird question."

There was no lack of hesitation, but he was still on the line. "Is this about Hugo Strange?"

"Well...not exactly. I'll explain everything when I see you, but for now I just need to know where I could find a source of relatively fresh- uh...human meat."

Another excruciating silence. She tried again. “Hello?”

“I am still here, Esther.” Roxy squirmed in her lap, trying to cover them both with a blanket. “I know the director of a mortuary near the diner you and Victor frequent.” Of course he knew about Patty’s, what didn’t he know at this point? “I will contact him and arrange for you to be sent whatever you need.”

“Thank you, Carmine. Could you give him my and Victor’s names so that we can pick it up?”

“Of course, dear. I hope this...satisfies your need.”

“Yes, thank you again. I’ll see you this weekend.”

“I look forward to it, goodbye dear.” The phone clicked and Esther set it back onto the receiver. Now all she had to do was figure out a viable way to explain everything to her godfather once the weekend arrived


	13. Chapter 13

Along with her godfather, Esther was faced with telling Officer Gordon about her children. Then again, she had no real obligation to the GCPD. It was a risk to contact them in the first place, but that decision was already made. Jim Gordon and young Bruce Wayne knew that she was involved in the case, and they would be suspicious if she never responded. And what could it hurt to speak with them again?

Esther twirled the cord from the landline around her finger as she waited for an officer to answer.

“This is Officer Alvarez with the GCPD.”

“Hi there, could I speak with Jim?” She wondered if her voice changed when she spoke on the phone. It was only a moment before a new voice was on the line.

“Esther? Can you tell me anything about Strange?”

“Nice to hear from you too, Billy Goat Gruff.” She pushed herself up onto the counter and looked through the kitchen door to where Victor was taking a nap with both kids asleep on top of him. “I’ve got more than enough gossip for you and Brucie, but it’ll have to wait until we have some time to ourselves.”

His deep sigh crackled through the receiver. “Alright. I’ll call you back when I’ve got a time and place. Did you tell anyone else already?”

“No need to be so hostile, Jim. I told Victor and my godfather, and I have no plans to tell anyone else. Are we done here?”

“Yes.” _Click._ Esther hung the phone back on the wall and hopped off the counter to sit in the living room with the others.

Victor opened an eye as she walked past the couch. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah honey, go back to sleep.”

The notion of working with the police was so foreign to her that it gave her a weird feeling. Rules were made to be broken, but people like Alvarez and Gordon were paid to uphold them; two diametrically opposed ways of life. Set on distracting herself from the strangle entanglements of truth and policy, she took a shower and changed into pajamas.

Returning to her family in the living room, Esther was greeted with a tackle to the legs and a bout of giggles from Roxy. There was a slight stumble, but the toddler didn’t have much weight to throw around.

“Hey now, do I look like one of the New York Jets to you?” She swung her daughter up into her arms and sat down on the couch next to Victor, who had a still sleepy Nix in his lap.

“What’s that?” Roxy’s eyes were bright with excitement, though the irises were so dark brown they hid the pupils.

“The Jets are a football team, sweetie.” She could tell this would only be the tip of the pop culture iceberg. “Football is a sport, like basketball and soccer. You want to see if anybody’s playing on tv?”

Answered with vigorous nods from Roxy and a groan from a sports-intolerant Victor, she grabbed the remote and began flipping through channels. It wasn’t time for a big game for any major team, so they ended up with a cooking show on the screen. Esther could hear her daughter’s stomach growl.

“You hungry?”

“Yeah, but not for that stuff. It’s too...green.” Roxy made a disgusted face.

Esther looked back at her boyfriend in silent conversation. One of them would have to procure human flesh for their children to eat. The idea was unsatisfactory to both, and they argued through expressions while Roxy watched the Food Network.

“I’ll go get the meat if you handle bath time.”

“Deal.”

Victor handed over the baby, then stood and stretched before heading out to visit the morgue. The rest of the family watched Alton Brown torture hopeful chefs on Cutthroat Kitchen while putting together a puzzle on the living room floor as they waited for Victor to return.

Not too long after the winner of the episode had been announced, he opened the door with a large paper bag. No suspicious stains, but the smell was enough to cause some concern. It was obvious to those who recognized it that he had been somewhere in the vicinity of a dead body recently. Luckily, he and his girlfriend were known to blur the lines of legality and morals, so no one in their right mind would dare to stop and search them. The only person in the city who might was Jim Gordon, and he could easily be convinced of the necessity of the situation.

Cooking the meat was another matter entirely, and there was no trading off this time. Esther and Victor did what they could to throw together a meal for a carnivorous toddler, but Roxy seemed happy to have a meal at all. She asked about every ingredient they used, what they were doing with them, and why they were doing it. She had apparently just been given a slab of raw meat once a day during her time with Strange and Peabody. Disappointed, but not surprised, the two of them exchanged a look and served Roxy her meal.

“What do you think, princess?” Victor watched to make sure she didn’t choke or make too much of a mess, which was practically a waste of time. Tiny hand prints covered every inch they could reach once Roxy had finished eating.

“Really good! Can I have it again tomorrow?” There was sauce all over her face, which Esther wiped off before going back into the kitchen to start dinner for her and Victor.

“Sure, or maybe we can try a new recipe. How does that sound?”

“Yeah!” She bounced in her high-chair and smiled bright enough to dim the overhead light.

The rest of the day was quiet. Nix took his pureed meat like a champ and hardly fussed at bath time. Roxy insisted on helping to take care of him, so she picked out his pajamas and talked to him softly as Esther got him ready for bed. It was a typical night at home, and both Victor and Esther went to sleep content.


End file.
